


Sobriquet

by MadScientific



Category: The Spectacular Spider-Man (Cartoon)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bent Over Workbench, Clothed Sex, Costume Kink, Nonbinary Mysterio, Other, Partially Clothed Sex, Post-Episode: S01E10 Persona, Pre-Episode: S02E01 Blueprints, Pretending to Be Strangers, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay, Trans Man Tinkerer, nb/m
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 09:54:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30070455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadScientific/pseuds/MadScientific
Summary: When Phineas Mason makes Quentin Beck's costume, pretending not to know who it really is under the helmet is supposed to be a brief joke. The way "Mysterio" immediately plays along, though, ends up being a lot more attractive to both of them than initially intended. Not that either is complaining.
Relationships: Quentin Beck/Phineas Mason
Kudos: 2





	Sobriquet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [completetheory](https://archiveofourown.org/users/completetheory/gifts).



> **sobriquet**  
>  _noun_  
>  A nickname, sometimes assumed, but often given by another and being descriptive in nature... A familiar name used in place of a real name without the need of explanation, often becoming more familiar than the original name.

"Okay," Phineas said. "Your cape's not getting caught in your pauldrons or collar any more, and the metal parts shouldn't get in their own way if you have to raise your arms above your head. Everything below your shoulders except for your gauntlets and boots is made out of Merino wool, so the snowstorms won't be a problem, and you shouldn't overheat, either."

"I never had to wear the Spider-suit," Beck noted, "so is it unfair to say your second try at making a costume has it beat?"

"Please, you can't compare them. You gave me more freedom to play around, Master Planner gave me more than twelve hours to make the suit... And I have a little more funding this time." Phineas grinned, then stepped back, satisfied for the moment with his fussing over the costume. "We'll need to test that dazing gas of yours to make sure the remote control and delivery system are working, but since you said it was going to be basically undetectable I programmed in a sound effect so you'd know if it didn't activate properly. You're still going with the magician act, right?"

"Excuse me." Beck pressed a hand to one's chest, feigning affront and affecting a theatrical voice. "Mysterio is no mere stage magician, but a master of the arcane arts!"

_"That's_ what you're going with?" Phineas failed to hide his amusement, and Beck crossed one's arms.

"What's wrong with that?"

"You don't think Spider-Man will call you out as a parody?"

"Honestly?" Beck dropped one's arms again, suddenly professional. "He's going to call me out as a parody anyway, so I can't make it worse. And it won't matter how many tricks I have up my sleeve if I can't distract him from what I'm really doing. Everything about this act needs to be misdirection. I need to give people a show."

Phineas had been working with Quentin Beck for a while by now, so it wasn't like he didn't know one took one's job seriously and thought things through. But one always impressed him when one got like this, anyway. He raised a hand in a sort of half-shrug, 'I give' gesture. "Sounds good to me. You'll definitely be able to misdirect, anyway. The buttons on your palms are going to give you control over a lot of things, so just keep in mind which one does what. You'll have your gas, holograms, the transport and the robots -- the Mysterio-bots are coming along great, by the way. I just need to make sure your costume's finalized before I give them copies of it."

"Speaking of finalized," Beck said, "what about the helmet?"

"Well..." Phineas's grin that time was mischievous, and Beck raised one's eyebrows at him. "It's a little more sci-fi than fantasy, but after that little preview of your act, I think you're going to like it. Unless you want me to make any adjustments, it's pretty much done. Here."

He crossed over to his workbench, which had a tarp draped over it, partially to keep off the dust but _primarily,_ he had to admit, to keep anyone from seeing his projects. Chameleon and Beck were actors, and Phineas sometimes rolled his eyes at them, but he had a theatrical bent himself and it came out in the way he pulled the tarp off with a flourish before lifting up the helmet.

Beck looked downright startled for a moment, but almost immediately began to grin. "Oh, that is _excellent._ That's not-- That can't be a one-way mirror."

"It basically is. It's one-way plexiglass. Reinforced," Phineas explained. "Which means it should be fairly impact-resistant, but you still want to be careful with it, all right? Don't test it too hard if you don't need to."

"Got it," Beck agreed. It was going to look for all the world like one was wearing a fishbowl on one's head... or a big crystal ball. Sci-fi was right, and one looked delighted about it. "How heavy is it?"

"I tried to keep it as lightweight as I could. Here, try it on. It should fit neatly into your collar and let you activate the headset inside it by tilting your head the right way and using it to press that button." Phineas indicated a button inside Beck's metal collar piece as he came over with the helmet and handed it over to one, and Beck nodded, slipping it over one's head.

The resulting figure was... not as ludicrous as Phineas might have expected, putting it all together. The colors, greens and magentas, had been Beck's choice, and in all honesty Phineas could have gone _brighter_ with them and it would probably have worked fine; as it was, one was showy, exactly like one wanted to be, and still managed to look impressive, or at least like one had stepped out of a movie.

It helped that Beck had the figure for the form-fitting bodysuit and practically-knee-high boots, admittedly.

The helmet cocked slightly, and Phineas's headset crackled to life. "Mic check," Beck said, and he heard it both out loud and in his ear.

"Heh. It's working fine," he assured. "Check the mirror and let me know if there's anything you want me to change, visually speaking."

"You're going to change a dozen things technically speaking before showtime," Beck predicted as one ambled over to the mirror propped up against the wall. One's voice was echoey inside the helmet. "If I start nitpicking how it looks you're going to be at this _forever."_

"You don't know that," Phineas protested, but idly, turning to tidy up his workbench. A few small things had been knocked over when he'd swept off the tarp.

"Of course I know that, you and Chameleon are the two biggest perfectionists I've ever met. And I'd know. _I'm_ a perfectionist." There was quiet, for a few moments, and then Beck called over, "It's perfect. Don't change a thing."

"We'll see if it works perfectly first," Phineas said, as if he hadn't just denied his inclination to keep fiddling with it. "But I'll consider its visual design finished and get to work on the copies."

"You should make one of my doubles look human underneath the costume," Beck said, wandering back over. "I can handle the makeup. But it'd be useful to have a _real_ fake set up to take the fall if it looks like I might actually be arrested."

'A real fake' made Phineas smile, and he glanced over his shoulder. "With all these fakes, no one's going to have any idea who's the real you, and who you even are," he said approvingly, and turned to face Beck. "The helmet's distorting your voice a little. Try the Mysterio act again."

Beck took no further convincing; one swirled the cape around oneself impressively, stepping back as if appalled. "An act? Just what are you implying, Tinkerer?"

Hearing the name he'd been going by for only about a week said in that voice, sounding even less like Beck's normal voice now with the slight booming echo of the helmet, was so inherently strange that Phineas had to stifle a laugh. "Only that no one is going to have a clue, Mysterio," he teased, leaning back on his elbows against the table. "I hope you'll tell people about me if you're impressed with my work. You know I'm trying to make a name for myself."

It was just a silly joke, honestly, not even hardcore pretending not to know who Mysterio really was, just talking like they hadn't known each other for a few years by that point. Like they were _Mysterio and the Tinkerer,_ instead of Quentin Beck and Phineas Mason.

Beck tossed one's cape back, still in full, dramatic Mysterio mode. "Of course," one said solemnly, in that theatrical, exaggeratedly cultured voice. "You have worked technological magic for our mutual employer and myself -- and I should know. I shall gladly praise the name of the Tinkerer to any brigands I happen to meet." One reached out and, before Phineas could even register surprise, snagged his hand and raised it, bowing low over it as if one would have kissed it if it were possible with that helmet.

Heat curled through him with an immediacy that he would _not_ have expected if any of this had been described to him. He was speechless for a moment, finding his voice only after swallowing, throat dry. "...There aren't any forests in New York City."

"Nor mountains," Mysterio agreed, straightening up and waving a hand, though one's other hand lingered as one slowly slipped it from his. "Details."

Phineas's fingers twitched, and he curled them as he lowered his hand back to his side. He knew he was flushed, he was even more aware of being aroused, and honestly? He was most distracted by wanting to touch Beck. Badly.

His mouth was basically on autopilot. "Well, it's always nice to have a customer who knows the value of a good reputation." It was ridiculous; he wasn't an actor and wasn't used to improv like this, but he didn't want to just drop the joke now. Was it even a joke anymore, or was it a game? It was definitely flirting, whatever else it was.

"Oh, I intend to make certain the world knows the name of Mysterio! And while I work, we can make sure that the right people know your name as well." This time when Mysterio reached up it was to touch Phineas's chin, and he lifted his head automatically; one stepped forward and pressed one's other hand to the small of his back, pulling him closer. "Perhaps you will even learn _my_ name, eventually."

That was the first blatant _yes, I'm pretending we don't know each other_ either of them had said, and it really was a game now, Phineas-- no, _the Tinkerer_ realized. A game where, yes, he was the Tinkerer and the person pulling him almost flush against one was Mysterio, and that costume hid one's face and all of one's usual tells but he could feel one half-hard against his thigh, and this was doing just as much for Mysterio as it was for him, wasn't it? They both knew it, now.

"And how is someone supposed to earn that?" Now that it was a little less surprising, and he knew they were both on the same page, Tinkerer rallied, starting to grin as he slid his hands up over Mysterio's chest.

"Brilliance is certainly a good start." Mysterio pushed some of the things on Tinkerer's workbench out of the way, probably without really looking at any of it, though it was of course impossible to tell without being able to see one's eyes. "If we--"

"Careful--"

"--yes, yes, all right." Even that little interruption was fully Mysterio; unsurprising, since when Beck decided to take on a role it was almost impossible to force one to break character if one didn't want to. "If we continue to work together... Though I take it you aren't planning on being an active participant?"

"I'm strictly back end," Tinkerer said, realizing the more suggestive interpretation as he said it and Mysterio boosted him up and back onto his workbench, and he wrapped his legs around Mysterio's waist. "Technical support. I just..." he smirked, _"appreciate_ other people using my work."

He could feel Mysterio's cock stiffen, fully hard against him now, and whatever was doing this for one it was having the same effect on the Tinkerer; his legs tightened and he pulled Mysterio closer with them even as one rocked one's hips against his, and one of his hands went back to clutch at one's cape.

"Then perhaps we can make certain you're privy to my thefts. My..." Mysterio paused then, considering the approach one might want to take. "Liberation of the human spirit from the corrupting effects of technology, which has all but stolen the old magicks from this world!"

One _definitely_ said 'magicks' with a 'k'. Tinkerer leaned forward and pressed his face into Mysterio's chest, shaking with laughter and arousal.

"You laugh?" Mysterio sounded actually, legitimately surprised and just a little bit offended. Tinkerer ground his hips hard against one, and it was worth it for the strangled sound one made, even if it also made him groan.

"Oh my God, just fuck me, _please."_

"As you wish." One even inclined one's head a little in a bow, the hands on Tinkerer's hips slipping under his shirt to fumble at his belt. Tinkerer pushed lightly at one's chest, urging one to step back a little, and slipped off his workbench again, tracing his hands down over Mysterio's chest encouragingly when one paused.

"Keep going. I just don't want to make too much of a mess." He didn't need to turn around or look to know which drawer to open, so he watched those gloved hands slip his belt free as he felt for the jar of petroleum jelly that he kept at hand for _primarily_ coating, finishing, waterproofing, cleaning, and less carnal lubrication purposes. Primarily. He set it on the workbench as Mysterio just tossed the belt off to one side, smiling at the urgency but not able to say a thing about it himself, shrugging out his trenchcoat immediately and dropping it on the ground with just as much carelessness.

"Eager, are we?" Mysterio commented as Tinkerer undid his pants and pulled down the zipper, and one's hands were immediately back under his shirt to hook one's thumbs into the waistband of his pants. Tinkerer huffed in amusement.

"You're one to talk," he teased. "Let me turn around first." Mysterio gave a little shrug, and he laughed that time under his breath as he turned, shaking his head and glancing back at Mysterio as one eased one's fingers into his waistband again, this time both pants and underwear. One didn't just pull them down to strip him, but lowered down into an admittedly theatrical kneeling position so as to get them all the way down to his ankles. Tinkerer couldn't exactly step out of them, as he was still wearing shoes, it was why he'd wanted to turn first, but the sight had definitely alchemized amusement back into insistent desire.

Mysterio stroked one gloved hand up the back of his leg slowly, up over the curve of his ass, and he turned back to face the workbench, reeling and breath coming short as he leaned to brace on it with both hands.

"I," Mysterio said, solemnly, "am not inclined to deny being eager for you. But you could make me more eager still. Spare my gloves the mess and prepare yourself, Tinkerer?" There was a hint of query to the almost calm, perfectly fair request and Tinkerer's hands shook as he grabbed the jar, twisted the top off and generously coated two of his fingers.

He felt Mysterio stand, behind him, and one's gloved hands pushed his shirt up his back to expose him further. One thumb stroked at his spine, the dip at the small of his back, as he reached back and pressed one slick finger up inside himself, then the second. He was admittedly rushing a little, but he wanted the stretch of it, and he wanted to prepare himself quickly, damn it; he _was_ eager, which Mysterio seemed content to watch and not comment on any further for the moment.

Then, though, "Do you prefer _coitus more ferarum?"_ The Mysterio voice was playful now, and one of one's hands slid back to Tinkerer's ass, squeezing and spreading him slightly for his own fingers.

Tinkerer absolutely did not feel like translating Latin right now, and didn't bother trying. "Maybe you'll find out" felt like an appropriate response whatever one had said, playful himself, flirting in the same way that _perhaps you'll learn my name_ had been, and Mysterio pulled one's hands away entirely. He heard fabric shifting and grinned down at his workbench. Oh, yes, this little strangers act was working _very_ well for both of them.

He'd made the costume so that it looked like it was all one thing, but one wouldn't have to remove the entire thing just to go to the bathroom, in case something came up. It was always better not to have every piece of an outfit connected if you could avoid it. That came in handy now, and Tinkerer returned to the jar for more lube before glancing back, seeing that, yes, Mysterio had pulled one's dick out and was tugging on one of one's gloves to remove it.

"Stop," he said quickly, and Mysterio paused. "Don't worry about _mess._ You could have just done this yourself if you wanted to take your gloves off."

He reached back and wrapped his fingers around Mysterio's dick, and tugged. One made a startled noise, stepping closer and hastily adjusting one's glove back properly onto one's hand, then gripping Tinkerer's hips tightly as he started stroking and coating one's length with the jelly. One's cock twitched in his hand and he took a sharp breath, feeling an insistent throb between his own legs.

"That should be good enough," he said in a rush, shaky, helping Mysterio line oneself up as one wrapped one arm around his hips and belly, the metal of one's gauntlet cold against his skin. He closed his eyes as one started to press in, a slow stretch that sent heat through his whole body and made him want more pretty much immediately. He ground his hips back, letting go and turning back front again once he was pretty sure one wasn't going to slip back out, mouth opening but any sound caught in his throat as he heard Mysterio moan.

"Fuck," he managed after a moment, and Mysterio pushed one's hips forward and pressed flush against him, half-embracing him as he leaned heavily onto his hands. Mysterio's chest was pressed to his back; he could feel the hard curves of the pauldrons and collar through the fabric of his turtleneck, but it wasn't unpleasant.

"You are exquisite, Tinkerer," Mysterio murmured, reaching up with the hand that wasn't wrapped around him to carefully remove his glasses and set them on the workbench. Of course Mysterio would use the word 'exquisite'. Tinkerer's breath came quicker. "I believe I understand the pleasures of the flesh, now that I am inside of you."

Tinkerer barked a laugh. "You don't do 'sex magick'?"

Mysterio paused, then moved one's hand from the workbench to press one's fingers teasingly against Tinkerer's cock; his hips jerked immediately. "...Perhaps I shall only mention the practice of such arts to a few chosen."

"I'm not going to last," he warned. "Especially not with you doing that."

"I do hope that's a promise." Mysterio pulled back slightly, then thrust forward again, starting up a quick, urgent rhythm deep inside him. The way one filled him was incredibly good, and when he shifted and leaned more heavily onto the workbench Mysterio started hitting even better spots inside him, and he gasped. Mysterio promptly started stroking and squeezing and tugging at his cock with gloved fingers, asking as one did so, "Would you like me to come inside you?"

Not exactly a steady question, but Tinkerer didn't feel even close to steady himself. "Yes--" he managed, before his orgasm hit and he moaned, rocking his hips insistently as he rode that crest of pleasure and tried to encourage it as long as he could. _"Yes._ Fuck-- Mysterio, come in me, _please."_

The arm that was holding him tightened around him, and Mysterio had already been thrusting more erratically but made a desperate sound at that. Tinkerer felt one come, shuddering and pressing close to him, and it felt honestly like a small miracle that neither of them had collapsed to the ground. He leaned against the workbench and felt Mysterio leaning against him.

"Tinkerer," Mysterio said quietly, almost questioningly. That same thrill went through him again, banked this time and accompanied by a familiar softness.

"That," he admitted quietly, "was excellent. Even if it _was_ unexpected."

He felt Mysterio shift behind him, pulling out. As he pulled his pants back up and carefully straightened up -- he'd need to wash soon but right now he was really starting to noticing the chill -- he heard the sound of Mysterio's helmet unlatching, and one reached past him to set it on the workbench.

"No kidding," Beck said as he turned around. One's eyes were dilated, a flush still high in one's face, and one admitted, "I think I need to sit down for a minute after that. Not that I'm complaining."

Phineas chuckled as one seated oneself on the floor, sinking down after one and letting one tug him into one's lap. "Neither am I," he assured, tilting his head as Beck pressed one's lips insistently to the soft skin underneath the curve of his jaw. "I know exactly how good you are and I still can't believe you didn't break character."

"Neither did you." Beck pulled back enough to grin at him, sly. "Guess we were both enjoying ourselves too much."

Phineas hummed an agreement, brushing his fingers through Beck's hair as one tugged at his turtleneck so that one could kiss underneath it. "Help me clean up and we can take the rest of the night off," he offered. "I can get started on your android in the morning."

"As you wish." Beck repeated the Mysterio line in Mysterio-voice again, and Phineas shivered as one's teeth scraped his neck.

"You're going to give me a Pavlovian arousal response to that," he noted, not quite warning _or_ complaining.

"Oh, like you don't already have one," Beck said, dropping the voice again. "Besides, you're going to make an android. Bet one of us finds a way to get turned on by that next."

**Author's Note:**

> They definitely both got turned on by the android later. The end! :D


End file.
